1. Truth: When one of my dogs is sick or injured, I find it hard to think about anything else. Ringo has had a wonky gut for the past few days and while I’m not worried enough about it yet to take him to the vet, I’m concerned. He probably drank too much water out of one of the streams on the beach and will most likely work it out without any intervention, but it doesn’t mean I’ve been able to stop thinking about it.
2. Truth: I haven’t settled in any one place long enough this summer to work my way out of my funk. I was starting to feel okay, but then we packed up and headed to Oregon. We stayed with my in-laws for a few days, but not long enough to feel settled, and then we came here. It was only yesterday that I started to relax a bit, but there’s still the ongoing dilemma of my life: do I use this time to accomplish a bunch of shit or take a break? What am I “supposed to do”? What would it look like or mean to be content?
3. Truth: There’s a weird guilt that comes with summer vacation. It’s confusing. This time is a total gift and I absolutely know just how lucky I am, but that just adds to the weirdness. Part of me feels like I need to party and/or rest the crap out of it in honor of all those who don’t have this privilege. Then there’s a part of me that can’t help but feel like I need to earn this time somehow, like the nine months of hard work I did the rest of the year wasn’t enough, like I need to have something to show for myself at the end of this break to be worthy of it.
One wish: May I surrender to my confusion, find myself just where I am at, and open to joy.